


So Won't You Take My Hand, Take My Heart

by dorkpatroller



Series: How To Serve (Laslow lets Xander bang him to unwind) [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: A costume party, Commission fic, Drinking, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Secret Relationship, Sex, Wall Sex, festival dlc, pirate costumes!, sort of, this is porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 02:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11281863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkpatroller/pseuds/dorkpatroller
Summary: Laslow is full of wine and bitter jealousy while Xander dances with everyone, it seems, but him at the ball. Surely he can find a way to steal his attention.





	So Won't You Take My Hand, Take My Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miyukitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miyukitty/gifts).



> A commission I was so excited to write! I love xanlow so much and I love xanlow PORN a lot too so here we are. Thank you so much for commissioning me, and also for giving me some liberties with the fic.

Laslow doesn’t remember this festival being so dreadful in previous years  Windmire hosts a costume ball every year during the harvest season and while Nohr never has the most bountiful harvests, it’s a fun time for everyone anyway. The harvest is hardly wasted either. More people drink themselves into a stupor than they do eat in abundance.

There’s dancing and fun costumes and good company. Lord Xander is always enthusiastic about festivals like this. It surprised Laslow when they first met. He had no idea the serious Prince of Nohr would enjoy dressing up. By now, Laslow knows it has little to do with the costumes. Xander is adamant about these festivals because he sees how it brings the people of his kingdom together with smiles and laughter and maybe even hope.

That is not to say he doesn’t look incredible when he dresses up. Gods, does he look great. Laslow spent most of the evening thinking about it. In fact, that is why he feels this festival is so dreadful. He can’t help staring. When Xander first arrived at the party in that pirate costume, he already looked incredible. Camilla took one look at him and with the flick of her wrist she ripped the cravat from his neck. With the swipe of her thumb popped open four buttons on his chest. After that, he looked  _ divine _ .

The coat is somewhat regal; the hat is amusing, but it suits the outfit. The purple wrap around his hips is unfair, hugging the subtle curves and edges of his hips. Laslow loves all the aspects of the costume, but his new favorite part is certainly the shirt. The open v exposing his chest. Laslow wants to push it back off his shoulders, to expose him further and…

Well, needless to say, Laslow is more than a little satisfied with Xander’s costume. It isn’t as if he didn’t know Xander would dress as a pirate. It was Elise’s idea for the retainers to dress to match their lieges. Laslow’s own clothes are very pirate-esque too. He jingles with his steps thanks to the chains he keeps as a token of his mother, and he has a brown vest over a puffy, white shirt, and hey—his chest is a little expose too… but he doesn’t see Xander drooling all over it.

It’s new and even strange to have part of his chest exposed. It also exposes one of his favorite, darkest secrets, though, so Laslow doesn’t mind.  It exposes the ring that he wears on a chain around his neck, usually kept tucked away underneath his clothes on any other day.  Laslow keeps it tucked under his clothes, usually. Today it’s out in the open, quite possibly for the first time. He fiddles with it while he watches Xander from across the way.

It’s a promise. Xander gave him this ring with the promise that when he becomes king, he will find a way for them to marry happily. For now, however… well, for now, it’s a secret. That Laslow sleeps with the prince is common knowledge, to Laslow’s despair, but that they are  _ in _ love is an entirely different secret. It isn’t uncommon for a prince to sleep with one or even both of his retainers. It is highly uncommon for a prince to marry one. Especially if that retainer is a man with no evidence of noble background.

Since their relationship is a secret, Xander has no reason to ogle Laslow at the party. He has no reason to dance with him. Laslow bites his lip. Although he is fiddling with the ring at his neck with one hand, he has a half full glass of warm, mulled wine in the other. It isn’t his first glass. It won’t be his last. He is about to bring it to his lips when he finds himself no longer alone.

“Eyes on the prize, I see,” Niles says. His voice is smooth as silk, but he can’t fool Laslow. He’s here to tease him, that much is certain. Laslow is already miserable enough without that added bonus.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Laslow lies. Blatantly. He doesn’t even bother to look away from Xander either. He’s approached by a woman. She’s noble, but not of high enough class that she should assume he will accept her dance. It’s brave of her to approach him at all.  He holds out his hand to her and sweeps her into a cheerful dance.

She likely thinks she can win his favor. Laslow’s lips curl into a tiny, almost proud smile. She can’t have him. He’s quite spoken for. Xander dances with her to be polite and raise her spirits, but this ring at Laslow’s neck represents where his heart lies.

He catches Xander’s eye. For a moment, a breath of a second, it’s just them. It’s just Xander’s dark, mulberry eyes distinctly resting on Laslow. There’s a softness to them, reserved just for him. Laslow must look as lovesick as he feels. Xander turns into the next step of his dance and Laslow turns to look at Niles. He finds him uncomfortably close, and he flinches.

“Gods, Niles.” He breathes out his name in a breathy sigh. Niles snickers and takes a step back.

“Mm, what a pretty thing to say.” Niles hums. Laslow realizes he’s been had but he doesn’t bother dwelling on it. Niles can draw idiocy out of just about anyone. As far as Laslow can tell, he isn’t wearing a costume, but his normal clothes. That’s confusing… because Lady Elise was  _ very _ enthusiastic about the costumes matching, and Lord Leo, Laslow knows, is dressed as a vampire. He’s seen Odin a few times now and knows Odin is dressed as such as well.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Laslow asks. He takes another sip from his wine and is disappointed to find it’s the last sip of the glass. He sighs and resolves to hold it in his hand until he can work up the motivation to get more.

“Perish the thought. I’ve come to mock you is all. You’re drooling, I think.” Niles appears to be examining his fingernails. Laslow licks his lips, but he knows he’s not  _ drooling _ . Even if he was, why should it matter? Xander is so handsome tonight. He’s handsome always, but the way he’s dressed now… surely he knows what he’s doing to Laslow. The way he catches his eye here or there and his lips just barely form a knowing smile… he has to know! Gods only help him when Laslow can catch him alone. He’s feeling bold after this much wine. He’s going to corner his prince, he’s going to demand he take off those clothes, he’s—Oh, he realizes, Niles is still talking.

“I’m sorry,” Laslow interrupts. “I think I hear Odin calling me.” He takes two steps away from Niles while he still faces him, but then he turns on his heel and makes his way across the room. Odin certainly did not call him. Had he, the whole  _ party _ would have heard it. No one likely knows that better than Niles, and perhaps that is why Laslow isn’t at all surprised that he follows him.

Odin and Selena are chatting in a corner. Selena has her arms folded over herself. Her Lady Camilla chose to dress as a succubus. Needless to say, Selena and Beruka both are wearing far less clothing than they’re used to. Laslow greets her with a confident smile. He’s struck out with her a hundred times, but there’s no shame in making it a hundred and one. “Selena, my dear.”

“No,” Selena says. Laslow sighs. Odin smirks, and Laslow sees it out of the corner of his eye, but he’s thankful that he doesn’t outright laugh.

“I’m wounded,” Laslow replies. He reaches out for Odin’s glass. Ah, still full. He pours half of it (the greater half if he is honest) into his own glass before he passes it back. Odin doesn’t look bothered by it. Selena rolls her eyes.

“That bad, huh?” She narrows her eyes at him like she’s trying to see through him, and quite frankly, Laslow feels like he’s the one wearing next to nothing under that gaze. He peels his eyes away from her and tries to hide the blush forming on his face. He’ll blame the wine.

Laslow shakes his head. “My heart aches with your rejection, but somehow I’ll survive.” Selena glares at him. Laslow huffs. “I’m fine! I’ve just had a few too many ladies turn me down tonight.”

“Lies!” Odin’s voice is energetic as always. He didn’t have half as much to drink as Laslow, no doubt about it. He tends to mellow out when he drinks. Laslow rolls his lips into a tight frown. He’s not a liar by nature, but he  _ did _ lie, and he’s not surprised he’s being called out for it. “You’ve been a wallflower the entire night.”

“Mm, swooning over Lord Xander.” Niles hums. Laslow sighs. Why does this feel like an intervention? He brings his glass of stolen wine to his lips and takes a larger than necessary gulp of it. “Such a hopeless thing, to love a prince.”

He swallowed before Niles says that, but Laslow still chokes. “Pardon me?” He presses a hand against his chest and he holds it there, hoping to ease the ache in his lungs brought on by coughing. “I never said..!”

“You’ll gain nothing but heartbreak,” Niles says it with a smirk on his face and a condescending tone, but Odin looks at him rather incredulously.

“As you should know,” Odin mutters. He doesn’t break eye contact with Niles when he speaks, but he doesn’t exactly look proud of what he said either. Niles flashes his eye in his direction and then clears his throat.

“As I might know,” Niles echoes. Laslow puffs out his cheeks and exhales a stream of air. He’s not sure what just happened, but he’s glad that, briefly, he seems to be free from torment.

Laslow changes the subject as quick as he can, because he’d like it to stay that way. “Speaking of Prince Leo,” he begins. Niles turns to glance at him instead, and there’s some residual bitterness in that stare. “Were you not meant to dress to match him?”

“I did.” Niles closes his eye and smiles. Odin scoffs.

“He did not,” Odin says. Niles tugs at his cape to reveal two of the tiniest marks on his neck. Meant to be a vampire’s bite, no doubt. Laslow chuckles. Odin throws up one of his arms. “That isn’t a costume!”

They bicker. Laslow turns away from them to look out over the dance floor again. He’s searching for Xander, of course. He had too much to drink to have shame. The only shame comes from others pointing it out. He’s watching his liege dance away the evening with everyone but himself.

He would love to dance with Xander at a ball. His fingertips find his ring again, twisting it on its chain. A promise that they’ll one day be married… and Laslow knows then he won’t care who sees him dance. He’ll have a dance with his King and husband on that day. In fact, he’ll hope the whole world sees. Xander belongs to him.

It’s hard to imagine this started, so long ago, as an unexpected tryst. That Laslow ever offered his body to Lord Xander to ease his stress was shocking enough. He never imagined his liege would accept the offer. Laslow smiles and glances downwards at the ring. He never imagined that he would one day marry anyone. In all his life, all he truly longed for was survival. Love and marriage were only just a distant daydream. He fell in love with Xander backwards, no doubt, but even if their relationship started out as something physical and no more… well, it blossomed like a rich, purple rose of Nohr into something deep, and nurtured, and beautiful.

Laslow is convinced that Xander isn’t even trying. He isn’t a vain man. He doesn’t go far out of his way to look handsome. He simply  _ is _ handsome. It’s unfair to the rest of the world, really. “Laslow,” He always speaks in that deep, firm voice but there’s something tender in it when he addresses Laslow, and, “Laslow.”

Oh.

Laslow’s mouth falls open when he realizes that Xander is talking to him. In fact, he sees now that he has already crossed the room. He’s standing here in front of him, and Laslow flushes and blinks until his focus is on his liege. “I-I-Er,” Laslow sputters. He clears his throat. “M-Milord, I hadn’t noticed—!”

Xander waits. Laslow watches him wait. He’s sparing none of Laslow’s pride, with one of his brows arched high while he waits to hear the splatter of excuses. Laslow closes his mouth. His face hurts for how bad his blush is.

“You’ve been staring,” Xander says, finally. Laslow would laugh if he wasn’t so humiliated. There’s absolutely no doubt about that. He has been staring all evening. “Is something on your mind?”

It's tormenting! Xander is teasing him on purpose. He knows exactly what’s on Laslow’s mind. “I am… simply being an ever-watchful retainer, Milord.” Watching Xander with lust and jealousy burning behind his eyes, no doubt.

“I see.” Xander reaches up and admires the ring hanging from Laslow’s neck. The corner of his mouth flickers up into a bit of a smile, and he adds, “How very responsible of you. Tell me, have you had much to drink?”

Selena snorts from behind him. Laslow holds the cup in his hands closer to his chest. He’s had a little too much to drink, yes, but it is a  _ party _ . “I haven’t fainted yet.” Why should he care? It isn’t as if Xander can spend any of his time with Laslow. Why, if Laslow were so drunk he couldn’t stand, it might benefit them. Xander walking his stumbling, drunken retainer to his quarters would be the most time they spend together all… evening… “Oh,” Laslow realizes suddenly. He looks back up into Xander’s eyes and finds that maybe this entire conversation is somewhat staged. Laslow licks his lips. “…although I fear I may need to retire for the evening.”

“Perhaps I should see you to your room,” Xander says. He reaches out for the wine glass in Laslow’s hand. Laslow lets go of it and watches in quiet awe as Xander puts it to his lips and takes a sip. After that he sets it aside. From behind him, Laslow can hear Niles make a smug noise. He thinks they’re going to slip off to sleep together. Ha! Joke is on Niles; Laslow has no shame left. He ignores the noise entirely to fall into step at Xander’s side.

“Yes, Milord. Thank you.” It’s the last thing Laslow says before they leave the party. They walk side by side and Laslow folds his hands behind his back. When they are some distance from the party, Xander reaches out and taps Laslow’s arm. With that command, Laslow drops his arm to his side, and Xander reaches out and takes his hand in his own.

“That ring looks good on you,” Xander muses. Laslow smiles and then cautiously looks up at Xander through his lashes. He looks very genuine.

“I’ve grown quite fond of the man who gave it to me.” The hallways aren’t well lit and they’re abandoned from the party. Laslow is just drunk enough not to mind if anyone sees him holding hands with the prince anyway. “He was at the ball tonight, you know.”

Xander smirks. He casts his eyes in Laslow’s direction once and then looks back at the hallway. “I imagine he is quite handsome, to win your favor.”

“He is very.” Laslow whispers. “He is strong and demanding, but also kind. He looked incredible tonight. He wore his chest on display and… I admit it was hard not to demand he drop everything so that I might be selfish. I would hate to spoil a good party.”

“Oh? And what is stopping you now, Laslow?” Xander’s voice is smooth and calm and doesn’t  _ sound _ like he’s asking for Laslow to act on his feelings. He sounds very collected for a man who just asked to be the center of Laslow’s attention.

“I-” Laslow stops talking to consider the question. What is stopping him? They’re deep inside the halls of Krakenburg and no one seems to be around for days. Xander has all but invited him… and so he realizes his opportunity and seizes it. Laslow pushes Xander backwards and towards the cold, stone wall and Xander welcomes it. He lets Laslow pull his face down to kiss him. He returns the kiss with enthusiasm and a warm, gentle hand at the back of Laslow’s neck.

This is what he wanted all evening. Xander is here now, his to kiss and touch and have.  _ His _ fiancé, and no one else’s. Laslow swings his hips forward so that they lay over Xander’s better. He molds himself to his body and breathes in the way he smells. More like wine than usual, perhaps he had a bit more to drink than Laslow realized. His lips move against Xander’s; they slot together with his while Laslow slips his fingertips between the deep V of Xander’s shirt and the hot, firm skin of his chest underneath. He catches his nipple between his thumb and finger and pinches it. Xander’s surprised moan leaking into Laslow’s mouth is all the reward he could dream of.

“I’m afraid,” Xander says in a breathy whisper, “We may find it in our best interests to continue this in my room.”

Laslow both loves and hates that idea. On one hand… well, it’s lovely that Xander invited Laslow back to his room. He’s sure this means the both of them will get everything they want and more. On the other hand, however… Why wait? Xander is right here, clearly aroused. His cheeks are just a little bit pink and he’s  _ panting  _ from that kiss and, gods above, it’s thrilling to see him begin to unwind. Laslow grinds his hips forward where he can feel Xander’s hardening cock. He can practically taste the desire in his voice. He  _ wants Laslow _ . Laslow, unsurprisingly, wants Xander as well. He rocks again and this time Xander drops his hands onto Laslow’s hips. At first Laslow thinks he’s got his way, that Xander is going to use his grip to further hump him, but… He instead pushes Laslow back a few inches.

Alright, he supposes, they can go to a bedroom. Does it have to be Xander’s? His feels so far away. Laslow grips tightly on the fabric of Xander’s coat. He looks  _ great _ in this costume. No doubt he can only look even better when he’s removing it.

Speaking of, Laslow reaches up and tugs the bandana wrapped around his own head off. He’s hot, for several reasons, and that isn’t helping any. “You make it hard to wait,” Laslow mutters. Xander chuckles under his breath.

“What would you have me do, Laslow?” He pulls the hat off of his head as well. His hair is remarkably tame underneath, only just a little disheveled. Laslow is already thinking about how he’s going to push his fingers through Xander’s curls and  _ pull _ , and the noise that Xander will no-doubt make in response. “Shall we steal away into the first unlocked door so I might have my way with you?”

Xander means it as a joke, but Laslow thinks it sounds like a good plan. He bites his lip. Surely he can’t just say that, yes, he would love to do that. If they are caught, it would cause chaos. “O-Of course not, Milord.”

“Hm.” Xander looks at Laslow. Stares, really, but Laslow tries to keep his eyes on the floor while they walk. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself. Xander is watching him and he expects that. He doesn’t expect Xander to pull him by the wrist so suddenly. “This way, then,” he says.

“Wha?” Laslow thinks he’s dreaming. When has he ever known Xander to be quite this impulsive? But he pulls him through the door to an old, underused supply closet. The moment the door closes behind him, Laslow’s back is thrown against it and a moan slips from his mouth. Xander’s mouth is at his neck and his hands are working to strip Laslow of some of the layers he has on.

Laslow drops the bandana in his hand and it falls onto the floor in a pile with Xander’s hat and, shortly after, the vest Laslow had on over his shirt. “X-Xander,” Laslow gasps. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy it. He has a particular fondness for the way Xander throws him around sometimes. He loves the force, the intensity, and the desire. He tilts his neck to better expose it for Xander while he kisses him there. He bites a touch, too, nibbles his way up to Laslow’s ear.

“Is this what you want?” He asks. The heat in Laslow’s face drops immediately to his cock. This is  _ exactly _ what he wants. He nods his head, but his eyes are wide while he stares at Xander. They could be  _ caught _ . Anyone could walk down this hall and open this door. They could hear them, even! Even if most of the castle residents know they’re sleeping together… it still feels scandalous. “On your knees, then.”

Laslow’s heart races against his chest. Xander works to remove that lovely sash that has been hugging his hips so sweetly all night, and Laslow has barely sunk to his knees by the time he has added it to the pile of clothes on the floor. His trousers are less tricky. Held up with just a simple belt, he pushes them out of the way easily enough.

Excitement spikes through Laslow. He pulls at the fabric of Xander’s pants and, the moment he can, he wraps one of his hands around Xander’s cock. He’s already hot and hard. Laslow tugs it and squeezes it in his hand anyway if only to admire it. For every time Xander has said Laslow belongs to him, certainly someday, when they are married, Laslow can finally argue that it is the other way around. All of Xander is his. His smiles, his laughter, his sorrows and his concerns. Certainly also his body. A body which Laslow will always strive to worship. His eyes slide shut and he leans closer to leave the tiniest kiss at Xander’s slit. After that, he wraps his lips around the head of his cock and gives a hard suck just to hear the breath it draws out of his liege.

Xander rests his hands gently on Laslow’s shoulders. They’re heavy and warm. While Laslow works to tease and suck at Xander’s cock, he thinks of what is to come. Himself, no doubt. He knows why Xander has asked him to suck his cock. The thought reminds him that he’s excited. It reminds him that this feels dirty and preposterous. The fact that Laslow is aroused by that is… a subject for another day. His cock pulses in his pants.

Xander, on the other hand, brushes his fingers through Laslow’s hair. “Good.” Earning praise from Xander usually provides Laslow with a swell of pride. This time, that pride comes in the form of syrupy arousal that travels down his spine and pools in his groin. Laslow whines around Xander’s cock. He wants so much from him. He wants to be rewarded for his  _ patience.  _ Not a single woman at that party had to put up with Laslow’s flirting, save Selena, but she hardly counts. No woman could have compared to how sinfully attractive Xander looked. How attractive he still looks, with his trousers around his thighs and his fat cock on display. Just for Laslow. Laslow has always known himself to be selfish, but tonight he feels even more so. He takes Xander’s cock deep into the back of his throat and he hums at the very idea of it. No one else can make Xander feel this good. He’s sure of it.

If Laslow drools a bit more than usual, that is the point. He listens to the way Xander’s breath catches while he bobs his head on and off of his cock. He slides his hands to hold on to Xander’s thighs and his grip could be bruising. Laslow doesn’t have to do such a good job, of course. This is a matter of lubrication, not a matter of pleasure. Laslow intends to pleasure Xander  _ anyway _ . He might sacrifice his own desires if he was asked to. He might let Xander fuck his face like this all day, but after a few more moments Xander pushes back on Laslow’s shoulders until his cock slides out of his mouth entirely. “Laslow.” Xander’s whisper is dry and it’s clear he’s trying to reel in the plea in his voice, but Laslow can still hear it anyway.

He knows. Oh, he already knows. Laslow is already working to shimmy out of his trousers. He  _ wants this _ . He’s wanted this all night, and now, to have it like this? This is a fantasy, a seductive dream. The only thing standing between Laslow and being fucked senseless in a closet in secret is his clothes. Not for long; Laslow can’t imagine he has ever undressed so quickly, especially when he has had to remove boots. He doesn’t bother with his tunic. It is still hanging to cover most of his indecency. There is a conspicuous tent where his cock is eager and erect. He rises to stand properly in front of Xander and without a second to waste, his handsome lover reaches under one of Laslow’s knees and guides his leg to hook over his hip.

Laslow drapes his arms behind Xander’s neck. He’s tugging at his gloves because he wants to touch Xander, to feel him, and he’s only discarded one of them by the time Xander’s thumb tugs at his lower lip. Laslow opens his mouth for him. Gods only know what he expected, but he’s met with Xander’s first two fingers in his mouth. For a moment, he’s shocked. Fortunately it fades into a delighted moan and he swipes his tongue over his fingers to coat them. Xander pulls his hand away but he replaces it with a kiss. Hard, desperate, and insatiable, that kiss has Laslow feeling dizzy and light. Like he can’t breathe, like he doesn’t have to so long as this particular kiss never ends. More than once he’s forced to part his lips in an effort just to try and breathe. It’s unexpected, but welcomed. Such an aggressive kiss has Laslow’s head feeling dizzy and light. Or is that the effect of all that wine at play?

While they kiss, Xander makes good use of his newly slick fingers. He slides his hand behind Laslow and pushes both of his fingers past his rim at once. Laslow sputters momentarily into their kiss. It is only just surprising, it doesn’t hurt. They do this far too often for this to be uncomfortable. And… for as much as he might deny it out loud, for Laslow the stretch is part of the pleasure. Being worked open is like being doted on, and being stretched wide by Xander’s cock… ah, well, it’s enough to make him shudder with anticipation. Very soon. For now, Xander’s fingers push and stretch him open just enough. Laslow is already imagining what’s next. Will Xander fuck him just like this? On their feet amidst sloppy, frantic kisses?

The answer is no, for Laslow at least. Xander pulls his fingers away and it is only a handful of precious seconds later that he takes Laslow’s position into his own hands. Quite literally. Xander hooks both of his hands under Laslow’s knees. Laslow is only a little startled when he is lifted from the ground entirely. His back hits the door a little harder than Xander likely intended. It rattles in the frame to show its protest, but neither one of them are bothered by it.

“You’re alright?” Xander asks. His face is flushed and his eyes are blown so dark. Laslow believes that Xander genuinely cares about his comfort in that moment. He believes that he has just enough of a clear mind to worry. Laslow, on the other hand, is a haze of sex and anticipation and alcohol and so he dismisses the worry without a second thought. He doesn’t care if his back bruises or if the door might splinter against him. He knows what he wants.

“Please. Don’t wait,” Laslow pleads. He can’t stand to see Xander wait a moment longer. He needs him, he needs him like this is their first time. He needs to know he’s the one who Xander needs as well. Laslow can feel Xander line his cock up at his entrance. He rubs the head of his cock past it a few times, lets only the tip dip inside. Laslow tries to push his hips down to meet him… but he’s well trapped in Xander’s hold. He’s braced him against the door and it is his balance and strength that keeps Laslow there by one arm alone.

Nothing about Xander is more sexy to Laslow in that moment than that. He whines low in his throat while Xander eases in slowly. The pressure is firm and hot and everything Laslow wants and needs. He’s desperate and horny and takes Xander’s cock easily, but Xander enters slower than Laslow would like anyway. He’s careful to lower him onto his cock slow and steady. It builds the desire and need in Laslow into a passionate fire with every passing second.

When he is fully seated on Xander’s hips, Xander shifts to better hold Laslow with both hands. It feels very secure. Laslow feels very whole in that moment. Laslow slips one of his hands down to press against his stomach. This always fills him, makes him feel wildly full and stuffed. Xander’s cock is long and thick, and when Laslow pushes against his abdomen he thinks he can feel it there inside of him. He can’t, he’s sure, but the very idea that he might sends chills through him.

He turns his eyes upwards to look into Xander’s. They’re still dark, still full of lust. He’s waiting to make sure Laslow is alright. They’ve never had sex quite like this. Without rationality and without plenty of oil, that is. Laslow drops one eye closed. He reaches up to tangle up his fingers into Xander’s curls. They’re looking a tad more disheveled than before. His doing, no doubt. Laslow smiles at his work. “Shall I beg?” He asks.

Xander doesn’t ask him to beg at all. He slips his hips back and then thrusts back into place rapidly. Xander’s first thrusts are startling, but all Laslow could have ever asked for. His head tips back and conks against the door. He grips Xander’s hair tighter. He moans something low and soft, and so Laslow pulls a tad harder to incite more of that.

“Ah, gods,” Laslow whines. Everything feels like it’s on fire, heat licks up his spine with each thrust. It’s a good burn, though. A white-hot pleasure that spikes with each roll of Xander’s hips. He wishes he can push him deeper, harder. He squirms to try and meet his thrusts halfway but he can’t move. Xander is holding him firmly in place and he shows no interest in letting him go. Instead he leans close and sucks at Laslow’s collar bone.

Laslow is nearly crushed between the door and Xander, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. At his mercy like this, Laslow feels the power that rolls off of Xander. He drops his hands out of his hair and instead holds him tight around his shoulders. He can do little more than cling to him for support as if Xander isn’t the man also trying to break him.

Xander’s breath is a steady pant, mixed with moans when Laslow clenches around him and here or there he whispers of praise for how lovely he thinks Laslow to be. It must be strenuous. Xander always holds Laslow like he weighs nothing, but even so he feels his back slip just slightly against the grain of the rattling door. To think they could have kept this a secret is a joke. Even if they had held back their own, loud moans, this door betrays them. Anyone who so much as steps foot in that hall will know exactly what is happening.

As they should, Laslow thinks. He says a little prayer that everyone knows that no one in this world or any other will ever please Xander the way he can. No one will love him like he does. Laslow crosses his ankles behind Xander’s back and squirms in his efforts to better angle his hips. His efforts are rewarded. He yelps out a surprised moan when Xander’s cock brushes just right to make the fire in his body spread so that he sees it even behind his eyelids. Not a second after he makes that noise, Xander’s lips crush against his again and Laslow cautiously slides down one of his hands to hold his face in place. He’s dizzy. It’s addicting. He wants to teeter on the edge of too much and not enough forever, he thinks, but the selfish part of him wants to come. Soon. “Please, mn,” he begs softly into their kiss. He can feel the way Xander’s lips curl into a smirk pressed taught against his own.

After that request, Xander shows no mercy. He fucks Laslow hard as he can. Laslow’s fingers scramble to cling to Xander’s coat. The door hinges jangle and creak in protest. Dissolute, frantic, his rhythm is chaotic at best. Laslow can feel his release approaching. He can’t help the way he clenches around Xander, he can’t help build up. He can’t help the scream that breaks past his lips when he finally snaps.

“Xander,” he exhales heavy and he sags against the door. He feels like he can’t move. Even the slightest jostle will be too much. He feels slick where Xander withdraws his cock. Xander sets him cautiously on the ground so that he can steady himself. Laslow is standing, but he feels like he’s floating. The only things he can focus on are how heavy Xander’s hands feel on his shoulders and his cooling come slipping down the inside of his leg.

His heart is pounding loud in his ears but he can still hear Xander. He leans down to kiss Laslow’s forehead. “Get dressed,” he orders. He would so much rather relax into a puddle, but Laslow knows he must. They both need to dress, lest they want to live in this closet for the rest of their lives.

That doesn’t mean they get dressed  _ well _ . The walk of shame to Xander’s room has Laslow carrying most of his clothes, and even his boots. He only bothers to put his trousers back on properly. He leans into Xander while he walks and Xander holds him with an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Should anyone see them they would surely know they are in love. Only a quick glance at the way Xander leans down to kiss Laslow’s temple while they walk, or at how Laslow slumps entirely content into Xander is evidence enough. They may see that Laslow can hardly walk straight. They may see that Xander can’t stop looking at him like he is the most beautiful thing in the world. They may  _ even _ see the way that Xander so clearly belongs only to Laslow.

 


End file.
